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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25469410">The double-headed eagle</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/goldtracing/pseuds/goldtracing'>goldtracing</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Hetalia: Axis Powers</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Character Study, Gen, Historical Accuracy, Historical Hetalia, Imperialism, Introspection, Nationalism</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-07-26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 11:22:02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,173</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25469410</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/goldtracing/pseuds/goldtracing</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>There are two sides to Austria: the ever hungry empire that seeks and devours and the citizen that wants nothing to do with politics.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Austria (Hetalia) &amp; Original Character(s)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>12</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>The double-headed eagle</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Writing how the personifications interact with their humans has become a very intriguing topic for me to write about. So, I guess I’ll do it more in the future.</p><p>Also, the views in this work are not my own!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It was this idyll that let him float away from the serious matters of state every once in a while. Recently, matters of high court had even become strenuous for him and dealing with the machinations of a control-obsessed chancellor was more than taxing.</p><p>A century ago, he wouldn’t have been so keen to be at leisure at a simplistic place like this, nor would he have attributed such easy pleasure with the well-known professor whose company he was enjoying.</p><p>Yet times changed rapidly and now was the time for plain enjoyment behind closed doors; private bemusement as a reprieve from the double-facedness and hectic of global politics. A thing he desperately needed.</p><p>In the privacy of his mind, he imagined the aghast looks of the courtiers and noblemen should word reach their sensitive ears. Powered faces twisted with horror at the idea of mingling with lesser people or the glee at having gossip about one of the most mysterious residents of the palace. As if hadn’t wrung with greater problems than a few pompous peacocks.</p><p>They didn’t understand, that is was a delight to get away from the upper echelons and mingle amongst the simpler folk that were still in touch with reality.</p><p>Rodrich studied his surroundings, violet-blue eyes ever keen if playful. The other men at the table were already merry and had broad smiles on their aged faces – a sharp contrast to the stuffiness of high society.</p><p>Joesf Lechner was the captain of the palace guard and that reflected in his personality: Too prim and discipled to be ordinary and on a part too course to belong to the fine elite. Besides that, he was a childhood friend of the two brothers and this time also the reason the nation had been invited.</p><p>Alois Kerscher was a doctor and a fine one too. Not to mention he was closely related to the host. One didn’t have to look closely to realise that. The set of his shoulders and the plucked lines that were his eyebrows were exactly the same as the academic with whom he shared common blood.</p><p>Professor Hannes Kerscher was the person with whom Rodrich had officially been acquainted with the longest. A trustee of sorts that didn’t know the truth – yet it was only a matter of time before he’d start to pry and investigate. Rodrich Edelstein’s ethereal otherness could only be brushed off for so long.</p><p>Many of his citizens had become quite skilled at ignoring things that didn’t fit into the gleaming soap bubble that contained their whole world, others hadn’t.</p><p>“I didn’t expect you to attend”, Hannes remarked, the else stern eyes of the professor twinkling with a practised playfulness. Dark grey eyes were steadily trained on the unlikely guest who morosely said:</p><p>“Truthfully, neither did I. As disagreeable as people are at the palace, you would think that you would need a passport to even leave the premises.”</p><p>A chuckle was the answer. “To think that they would make such a fuss about a teacher. It doesn’t matter that you’re so important to the dear princes, a man has the right to amuse himself”, the academic wisely pointed out and then leaned back into the confines of the cushioned wood chair.</p><p>“Even if that were the case, then we could all trust Josef here to wave you through!”</p><p>Rodrich smirked. Ah yes, the older human though himself well acquainted with the alleged and actual in-home tutor of the royal children. Were Austria anything other than a nation, then he would have all the right to do so – seven years were a long time for mortals.</p><p>So far, he’d written of the well-spring of knowledge and ideas and suggestions that the nation was as Edelstein being exceptionally intelligent, the concrete self-confidence as a sign of a healthy upbringing and the multitude that was the personality of Rodrich an indicator of an open mind and innate shrewdness.</p><p>Not to far off, not to far off. But narrowly passing by was stilled missed.</p><p>Then of course, none of the humans present at the table would associate the sharply cut aristocratic features to have been one of countless faces in a crowd that had watched them play as children in the streets of the metropole. The eerie notion of familiarity was attributed to long, enduring acquaintance, and not something eldritch lurking in their midst.</p><p>Mortals can be so forgetful, luckily.</p><p>Yet, the past matter little in the present where it mattered to capture and savour the moment. The ambience was set just right for that.</p><p>The sharp tones of a zither floated through the air and the conversation was hushed excluding a few bursts of laughter. Momentarily, all attention was focused on the captain shared a story:</p><p>“…Of course, that stuck-up buffoon wouldn’t let me be. You already know how he is – so full of himself that it’d make anybody puke. Really, he has a stick so far up his ass that it has knocked out all common sense that was once in here”, the scathing critique of his superior was followed by a tapping gesture to the head.</p><p>“Anyhow, I had just given a thrice damn French diplomate the directions to the quarters of the empress when he appeared at my shoulder like the devil himself. “So, you’re slacking off again Lechner. Shouldn’t you be in the West Wing?””, he had a sore impression to which Rodrich sniggered. Knowing the victim to the slander only made the whole matter funnier.</p><p>“A bit grand coming from him. He is the one that doesn’t take his job seriously because he likes going to spy on the ladies much more. By his ugly mug, no wonder they start screaming the moment they catch him peeping.</p><p>“I also used the chance to get back at him with that. I said: “I was called by the duchess that complained to me that somebody was watching her when she dresses. Said he looked like a goblin.</p><p>Funny isn’t it, she said the peeper has a big nose and a round sweaty face similar to yours, sir.” He went beet red at that but couldn’t say anything because one of the diplomats was going down the hallway”, he ended his anecdote.</p><p>Indeed, Austria had learned long ago to listen to the whispers of the servants and the guards – the hard way. Being regarded either as commodities or invisible, many didn’t calculate the staff into the equation when they plotted – or sinned for that matter. To bad for the high and mighty that the eyes and ears of their subordinates were sharper than they liked to believe.</p><p>Hence why, they were his main source of information and gossip due to their aid he had more than enough at hand to successfully blackmail every single person in the higher circles. All it costed him was restraint not to do so no matter how gratifying it would be to him.</p><p>And it demanded time and his silver tongue. God knew how reserved his people could be and their tendency to talk in riddles.</p><p>However, every now and then he would sow a few rumours to discredit some poor fool that had winded up in his bad books. The scrambling to salvage reputation and outmanoeuvre the impending social suicide evoked vile Schadenfreunde in him.</p><p>The evening progress finely and some time after the sun had sunk beneath the spires of his capital, the music ceased as little Margot scampered off to bed. They all had eaten their supper and the goulash filled Rodrich and gave him a warm feeling of homeliness.</p><p>‘bout time little children were tucked into their beds and the more excitable part of the day could commence.</p><p>“Such a wonderful little girl you have there Hannes. Sweet as the first spring lamb and just as gentle”, the neigh immortal commented. “If you don’t watch out, she’ll surpass you one day in terms of musical talent!”</p><p>The dishes had already vanished leaving just half-full beer glasses. It hadn’t been their first round either and their attitudes reflected it – they had become jollier than usual.</p><p>The lady of the house, seeing the late hour and the state of the men, had wisely ushered the child out.</p><p>The scholar laughed good-heartedly and with the dark golden beverage at hand, made a sweeping gesture to the nature whilst remarking:</p><p>“My dear friend, is it the alcohol speaking or are you being a sentimental poet today? It is so unlike you to simple toss out compliments on an occasion like this!”</p><p>The older Kerscher took a length sip of his alcohol, the foam clinging to the trimmed moustache before he wiped it away with the back of his hand.</p><p>“But to that silly little jest of yours. Yes, the youngster is quite ambitious and will soon be attending music school.</p><p>“However, don’t fret, she’ll never best her Herr Vater at the violin”, he lightly countered.</p><p>Of course, the man was of more wit than his appearance let on – greying hair and wrinkled skin didn’t really let on the notion of shrewdness, indeed, it made many assume they were markers of senility.</p><p>The jacket was carelessly thrown over the back of his chair and a few silvery stands were sticking out of the once tidy hairstyle. The strict nature with which the students were so well acquainted with collided with the casual nature that he now displayed amongst friends.</p><p>The hard lines and strong build didn’t fit with how his moustache and beard would quiver when a rumbling laugh would leave his throat.</p><p>But it was an evening amongst friends, cards being laid out on the table and useless anecdotes being swapped with the occasional, more serious undertone to some recounting:</p><p>“…The other day I had a young lady come in with some blasted tuberculosis. Her lover was in quite a fright, said he had to take his darling to this side of town because his parents didn’t approve. A bit of a pity for him, really because he claimed that they had connections to a superb German doctor. What can I say, more luck for me …”</p><p>“…The youth is getting more unruly with every passing year. I swear, if it weren’t for my cane then I wouldn’t be able to keep some of my classes under control. What is even going on in their head? They come in hungover and expect me to have pity on them! Why should I? It is their fault if they ruin themselves!…</p><p>For the most part, Rodrich kept silent. Long ago he had determined that there were times to talk and times to shut up and listen and thus learn something new. Only when he found it befitting did he add a snide comment to a story or let some of his notorious dark humour flow into the conversation.</p><p>Or some scathing remarks about the doings at the royal court.</p><p>“… the children of the Duchess are little brats, all three of them. Each one is as daft as a brush and think themselves to witty when they quote Mozart. Please, the composer had more class and originality with his insults than those three put together could ever bare witness too during their lifetimes!…!</p><p>Austria nearly missed tutoring Napoleon’s son. The little eagle had showed enough promise to tread in his father’s footsteps. If he could have used the young man to his advantage…</p><p>As alcohol continuously flowed from bottle to glass and then down throats the men became more jovial at the game they played.</p><p>“I heard in the other countries they don’t play such games”, Alois commented, voice as sharp as the scalpels he used for work. “They are boring and plain with their jacks and ass. How can they claim to be cultured compared to us Austrians?”</p><p>Indeed, the notion was only confirmed when the nation glanced down at the last card in his hand; with its ornate decorations of fall and harvest it was more tasteful than anything he’d seen in Monaco.</p><p>Rodrich won the round and his companions joked about there bad luck as the cards were reshuffled to play another game.</p><p>England and France wouldn’t take it well if he rubbed something so petty but hypocritically vital in their faces. The bland playing cards that those other nations preferred to play with didn’t represent any culture and individuality like his did – rather they were the symptom of something severe.</p><p>Something lacking.</p><p>In every aspect of his life, Austria displayed finery and artistic beauty, something that even his farmers possessed. It stood in stark contrast to how the rest of Europe, the rest of the World for that matter, expressed themselves in brutish and uncouth ways.</p><p>As an empire, he demanded respect and piety from others. But he was far more just and less warlike than the others that strove for hegemony.</p><p>Austria wasn’t as rash as England, nor did he share the insatiable greedy strain of Spain. No, he just profited from the latter, courtesy of the Hapsburg marriage policies.</p><p>He didn’t have the airiness of France that could so easily transform into nauseating narcissism and he wasn’t as irreparably damaged as Russia. Prussia was a category for his own, irritating whether he has an ally or a foe. One day all his warmongering would come to bit him back – the fool didn’t understand that there was more to ruling than blood and conquest.</p><p>Austria was more a son of Rome than that British cuckoo or those Iberian frauds whose power had long since begun to wane. Yes, he had spilt blood to expand his borders, as was his birth right, but he was also gifted in diplomacy and at the end of the day, a silver tongue was worth more than the sharpest sword.</p><p>Boisterous laughter slowly subsided as the cards were packed away and the men began to smoke, Edelstein taking a cigarette out of his etui. Gratefully, he let the doctor light it when the latter offered his fire. Alois then lit his own pipe.</p><p>The human then leaned back and studied him intently, glassy eyes boring into him. His brother mimicked those movements and the third mortal hunched over the table and regarded the scene with curiosity.</p><p>“You know you seem eerily familiar too me”, Alois started, his speech purposefully slow in order to prevent his words from slurring too much. The speaker wanted to continue but Rodrich denied him that right.</p><p>“We’ve known each other for over six years”, he laughed it off, trying to make his friend look silly – the antics and mumblings of a drunk that had suddenly become poetic. The other two at the table had gone quiet, looking at the pair of conversationalists with avid interest.</p><p>Undeterred, Kerscher clarified: “That isn’t what I mean. It’s more complicated.”</p><p>At that, Rodrich raised an eyebrow. Sure, he did know exactly where this was all heading and he didn’t endorse it one bit. Best to play oblivious. “How can it be complicated? We are a bunch of friends that like to spend time with each other, so how can it be complicated?”</p><p>By all means, his tricks seemed to start taking effect. The medical professional was getting annoyed, if the twitching of his eyebrow was anything to go by. Still, the mortal didn’t relent:</p><p>“Because it is. It is something I can’t fully put into words or really place my finger on. It is almost like you’ve always been around in one way or another, almost like you’re a part of me.”</p><p>The man was also speaking for the many others with which the personification conversed. Yet Rodrich had experience dealing with such hicc-ups:</p><p>“While I am touched, dear Alois, that you adore me so much, it is not like I’m your better half. Do you really have such feelings for me?”</p><p>Upon that, the others roared into laughter and the good old doctor turned beet red and hastily denied it. His voice went down in the noise.</p><p>Another curse of eternity bestowed upon him, to be close to his people because they were what breathed life into him, they built up his identity and yet he was distant to them because immortality isolates.</p><p>Alois was drunk, otherwise he wouldn’t have been so bold to voice his musings and for that Rodrich was inwardly cursing the alcohol. On the flip side, he could later blame his similar erratic behaviour on having to many beers, despite that it took far more for him to get intoxicated.</p><p>The culprit still held a look of sheer embarrassment on his face. For an instance, he opened his mouth to correct the nation, but then slammed his trap shut least he be made fun of again. The two other men were still sniggering, although the chuckling of Josef seemed a little forced.</p><p>Perhaps he had the same suspicions as the doctor.</p><p>Silently, Austria vowed never to visit his friend’s hospital. The mortal could uncover the truth.</p><p>The country knew that the conversation was at an end – he had said his last lines and it was high time to flee the stage. Furthermore, he wasn’t ready to confront the complexities of his existence and those rude inquiries had ruthlessly dragged thoughts forth that belonged under lock and key.</p><p>Naturally, he held prestige and greatness but also suffered immensely. A thousand years was a heavy burden to bear – festering secrets and taboos and unaddressed sorrow. He’d never be remotely human, just a cheap parody.</p><p>Friendships tended to turn to ash before he could fully invest in them.</p><p>The notion that glory wasn’t forever was even more bitter. His empire would end. Pillars of iron ambition, gunmetal warfare and silver diplomacy could only stand for so long – he despised the game for hegemony just as much as he was infatuated with it.</p><p>Maybe that was why he found it so attractive to play-pretend and flee from politics from time to time. When had he become so jaded?</p><p>Taking a deep breath, he studied his companions. Josef with gazing a him with intense scrutiny.</p><p>Being a part of the palace staff, he already suspected that there was something not entirely ordinary about Rodrich; but he didn’t asked questions and knew the value of keeping secrets. Those were traits he cherished in a person.</p><p>Nonetheless, Austria was certain that the captain would lift the mystery one day, see how he never aged and was too oddly layered and experienced to be young and piece it all together. But until then was time aplenty and for the present, such things as immortality belonged in the realm of fairy tales for the trio.</p><p>Unwilling to stay any longer, he stood up. The delusion of joy was shattered.</p><p>As he bad his friends a gruff goodbye, Rodrich contemplated how long it would be until he would have to sever the bonds. He still had time, three over four years at the most, and just by coincidence….</p><p>No, it was futile to get his hopes up.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Biedermair – was an era starting with the Dancing Congress in 1815 and ending in 1848 with the March Revolutions. Characteristic about this age was, that people tended to shut themselves out from politics and drew back to their homes and closer circle of relatives and friends due to Chancellor Metternich setting up a police state. And yet this was the time were Austria had immense influence and had a far stretching Empire.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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